


Heartbeat

by lasvegas_lights



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 08:56:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasvegas_lights/pseuds/lasvegas_lights
Summary: Amanda misses playing her drums, Martin fixes that.





	Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by an idea from the awesome Tella_Tale !!

It was late when the roads turn from empty country trails to streets lined with houses. After travelling all day with barely any stops the group was antsy. Everyone except for Amanda who can’t help the yawn that escapes her mouth as she leans against the passenger seat window, staring out at the passing views.

With her knees pulled up to her chest and her boots wedged against the dashboard she looks tiny in the seat she’s occupying, almost fragile, which Martin knows she’s anything but.

“Tired, Drummer?”

Having spent so long in a comfortable silence, his words make her jerk in surprise. Her head lifts from the glass and twist in his direction ready to protest but she finds she doesn’t have the energy. Slumping back into position she sighs. “We stopping?”

“Soon.”

Amanda nods but doesn’t respond. A moment later she lifts her head once more and turns her whole body around to face Martin. “Why do you still call me that?”

He glances at her briefly and then his eyes flick back to the road ahead “Drummer?”

She nods.

“It’s y’name.”

“But I haven’t even touched a pair of drumsticks since I left with you guys, let alone played.”

Martin says nothing for a long time. His fingers tapping against the steering wheel, the tell-tale sign that he was craving a cigarette. They pass a sign for a parking lot and Martin makes the executive decision to pull in. At this time of night there’s no one around and as soon as he puts the van into park the others burst out the back and run in different directions.

Martin doesn’t move, just pulls his worn pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and lights one. After taking a drag, he passes it over to Amanda who does the same.

“It’s not just about the drums.”

This surprises her, her eyebrows almost disappearing up into her bangs. “No?” She passes the cigarette back.

“You have a beat,” he says.

Outside, Vogel runs past the window with a trashcan held high above his head like a trophy.

“A beat?”

Martin huffs, clearly unhappy with his explanation. “Your heart, I can hear it. We all can.”

Amanda rolls her eyes, “Everyone has a heartbeat.”

“I could pick yours out anywhere,” he admits and Amanda’s eyes widen almost comically at the lead Rowdy’s admission. “You’re drumming a unique beat….Drummergirl.” He smirks.

Amanda wishes she could hate the effect the man has on her, but she can’t. “You know, for someone so aloof, you sure know how to say the right things.”

He shrugs off her words and stubs the end of the cigarette into the metal ashtray. “Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?” She picks at her chipped nails and makes a mental note to ask Gripps to redo them.

“Drumming,” he answers.

There are a lot of things Amanda was missing whilst on the road with her boys. Regular hot showers, sitting down at a table for meals, even her brother sometimes, but drumming was definitely at the top of the list. Her kit was still sitting in her garage, probably covered in dust by now. “Yeah, I miss drumming.”

“Well why didn’t you say so,” He winds down the window and sends out a sharp whistle, signalling for the others to return. As he starts the engine, there are thumps and thuds as the others climb back in and then the sound of the doors slamming shut.

He pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards the centre of town.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

After a few minutes driving past all the shop windows, Martin puts his foot down on the brake sharply, forcing Amanda to put her hand out to stop herself from flying forwards.

“What the hell?” The sudden burst of adrenaline has her wide awake.

Martin jumps out of the van, walks around the front and opens Amanda’s door. Holding out his hand, she takes it and lets him help her out. For a group of men who liked to live out of a van and break shit, they were more chivalrous than expected.

Looking up at the store they stopped in front of makes Amanda smile. “Seriously?” she asks in excitement.

Martin slings an arm over her shoulders and leads her to the dark shop. Whilst the pair wait calmly, Vogel, Gripps and Cross fall out of the back of the van, each holding a weapon of choice. Cross hands an extra baseball bat to Martin who uses it to smash the locked glass door.

It’s a small enough town that crime isn’t really an issue as no alarm goes off as the group tread through the broken glass and into the music shop. There’s no security cameras either Amanda notes as she looks around the space until her eyes fall on the shiny drum kit set up in the corner of the room.

When she sits down on the stool it’s like coming home. She reaches out in front of her, trailing her fingers across the crash cymbal and then down to tap her fingernails against the snare drum.

“You might need these.”

She looks up to find Martin stood beside her with a pair of drumsticks in his hand. She takes them with a grateful smile and immediately twirls them deftly.

When she starts to play, the others stop what they’re doing and watch her. She can’t stop herself from grinning as she hits out a rhythm on the percussion instrument in front of her. When she closes her eyes, she’s back in her garage, Todd strumming his guitar beside her.

Her eyes snap open when she hears Martin howling and her grin widens in response. “Want to play?” she asks him.

“You’re the drummer, not me.”

“Nonsense,” She stops playing and lifts herself to her feet. “Sit,” He doesn’t move. “ _ Sit _ ” She repeats, this time with a little more force and a look which never fails to make the boys do her bidding.

He unfolds his arms and steps into her space, his eyes never leaving hers as he sits down onto the stool she had been occupying. His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline when Amanda sits down on his lap and presses her back into his chest.

“Drummer?”

“Shhh, pay attention” She places a drumstick in each of his hands and then guides them towards the large drum to his right. “Floor tom-tom,” she explains as she helps him hit the skin of the drum. She kicks his boot towards the pedal on the floor in front “Bass drum.” He presses down on the pedal and the thump it produces makes him smile. Slowly, she shows him each bit of kit one by one, filling the shop with the different sounds they make.

As Martin gets more into the lesson he’s receiving, he hooks his chin over her shoulder to get a better view of what he’s learning.

“Your heart’s beatin’ fast again.”

Amanda hums in agreement, “That’s the effect you have on me.”

She wonders briefly if she has made a mistake, admitting what she has, but then she feels Martin’s lips on the side of her neck, placing one, two kisses on the available skin there. His beard tickles her and she huffs out a laugh which evolves into a yawn.

“Come on Drummer, time for bed.” He slides an arm around her waist and lifts her to her feet. She’s too tired to resist and lets him lead her back through the shop and out to the van, collecting the others on the way.

It’s only when she’s helped into the passenger seat and Martin starts the engine that she realises she’s gripping the drumsticks tightly in her right hand.

“Thanks,” she says softly, practically asleep in her seat. “For tonight, and everything else.”

“Always,” Martin replies. 

She feels his hand settle on her knee before sleep pulls her under.

 


End file.
